Servitude
by FearTheEngineer
Summary: With Rinzler at his disposal, CLU decides that Dyson has outlived his usefulness.


_"Perfect."_

CLU smiled at his accomplishment – a genuine smile, not the façade he put on for his speeches. Standing before him was a familiar militaristic program, shoulders squared and rigid, the distinguished 'T' mark prominently displayed on his chest. The orange glow of his circuits reflected on the smooth surface of the floor as he stood still and awaited his orders.

"Excellent work, sir." Dyson looked over the rectified form of his long-ago commanding officer and gave the Administrator an approving nod. No program would ever again be coerced into fighting for the false ideal that Tron stood for. The members of the Resistance were blinded by loyalty to a symbol – not even a real cause – but to the Marshal, who had worked alongside Tron, he did not so much stand for freedom and peace as he did for… negligence.

"Let's give our new enforcer a test, shall we?" said CLU, head held high with determination in his eyes as he often appeared when he'd come up with an idea that he was quite proud of.

"We could put him in the Games," Dyson suggested in response. "There's a group of insurgent programs arriving on the transport in a microcycle–"

CLU shook his head. "Not enough of a challenge for the mighty Rinzler, if he is as skillful a combatant as his, ah… _Former_ version."

The Administrator's smile widened; his eyes shone with excitement. "You have served me faithfully, Dyson. You've always done outstanding work, and your loyalty is appreciated. But I'm sorry to say that, if Rinzler here is as capable as I trust that he is, _I don't need you anymore._ "

"Rinzler… Derezz him."

CLU's order was accompanied by a casual gesture of his hand in Dyson's direction, and the officer did not allow enough time for the shock to set in– the instant he heard the order, his disc was in his hand with the cutting edge ignited. Rinzler was just as fast, and before the echo of the Administrator's words had fully faded from the empty chamber, their discs clashed together in a shower of sparks.

Rinzler, contrary to Tron's style, fought on the offensive. As soon as their discs collided, Rinzler was already pulling his arm back to strike at Dyson again, this time turning his body to angle the attack and make it harder to counter. Dyson raised his own in time to block– barely. Once again the rectified program was pulling back the moment his disc deflected off of Dyson's– he sprung off from his right foot and launched himself into the air, performing a somersault that ended with an attempt to slice across Dyson's back as he landed.

The officer ducked down and pivoted. He evaded Rinzler's disc, though it came close enough that he felt the heat and energy which emanated from it. He raised his disc to block as Rinzler's came down again, towards his head. Then he dodged as Rinzler crouched low and redirected into a swipe aimed at his legs.

Dyson wondered how long he'd be able to keep this up. The enforcer had all of Tron's fighting ability, and now the observational skills of a rectified program: no personal agenda or biases, no axe to grind. Rinzler would not become distracted, and he was so fast that defending against him left almost no time to counterattack. If he weren't so focused on fighting for his life, Dyson would have felt a strong sense of impending doom.

Sure enough, before their fight had been going on long enough to draw the attention of any other soldiers in the base, Dyson moved to counter one of Rinzler's blows and extended his arm out too far. Before he had a chance to pull back, Rinzler's disc swept upward and left a deep wound along the inside of his arm.

The miniscule delay caused by the sudden injury was all Rinzler needed– the enforcer pulled the disc back and drove it straight at the center of Dyson's body. He pivoted, tried to angle himself so he was out of the way, but he wasn't fast enough– with no time to register what had happened, the officer was lying on his back on the floor with a gaping wound in his chest that leaked searing energy.

Rinzler stood over him, the active disc held idly in the enforcer's hand at his side. "Get it over with quickly, then," Dyson growled. His voice was hollow and cut with static.

The last thing the leading security officer of the Grid was aware of was the strange rattle that came from the enforcer, like a broken machine.

CLU smiled approvingly and clapped his hands as Rinzler docked his disc and lowered his head in an idle stance. "Magnificent! Your performance here has been as great as I'd hoped!"

If the enforcer understood CLU's commendation, he did not react.

The Administrator knelt down and picked up Dyson's disc from the pile of voxels at Rinzler's feet. He held it for a moment, looking it over with a contemplative expression, then extended his hands towards his new enforcer. "Take it. It's yours now."

Rinzler tentatively reached out and accepted the disc from him. Without warning, the enforcer took on an aggressive stance once more. The edge of the disc ignited, and it appeared that he was about to cut through the Administrator…

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Rinzler returned to his neutral posture, head bowed, disc deactivated and held idly at his side. CLU's demeanor had changed. He turned away and walked out of the room, silently asking himself if he'd made the right decision in choosing Rinzler over Dyson.


End file.
